by Hart Seely
Though Boston can be dark and gritty,
In one man’s eyes, she’s always pretty.
He should lead some p.r. committee.
Big Papi loves that fuckin’ city.
He’s always showing style and grace,
Puts smiles upon each cherub’s face,
And pessimism? There’s not a trace.
Big Papi loves that fuckin’ place.
Though sometimes, evil runs amok,
And Boston’s team seems out of luck,
One voice shall rise above the muck.
‘Cause Papi gives a fuckin’ fuck!
This poem was first posted on Hart’s website, It Is High, It Is Far, It Is … caught.
Published in Boston Red Sox, Fans, Players, Pure doggerel | Link to this poem | 1 Comment